From Bad to Worse
by TheBabs
Summary: While with her party, a Gnome Warlock is the only one spared from a massacre by the Horde and is sold as a slave. She recants the experience to her new owner, while trying to mature into a woman. Will she escape back to the Alliance territory or will sh


A pink haired Gnome ran behind her Troll master as fast as she could, coughing on the dust that was kicked up by his steps. She tried to ignore the fact that he liked to tug on her leash to try and trip her so he could yell. She also tried to ignore that the leather was too tight and made for the long neck of a Night Elf, not a short Gnome. The one thing that she was grateful was the simple linen dress she wore, as the sweltering heat of The Barrens would have toasted her in her old armor. A sigh barely passed before the Troll stopped suddenly, making her almost collide with him. She barely passed him before tripping on the slack of her leash and falling face first in the dust.

The Troll, presumably named Kranal,was a Shaman. In Esera's opinion, the Horde Shaman was like an Earth based Warlock that called help from magical totems instead of summoned demons. She watched from the ground as two totems sprung up from the ground as Kranal hummed to himself. She was horrified to find that a small smile was forming as she watched the Shaman attack the Screecher. The way he danced around as one red glowing totem spat fire at the poor creature and how the other totem periodically confused the creature into attacking it made her want to jump up and fight along side him.

No! She couldn't have these feelings! Horde were dirty creatures that had killed her old group, striped her of her armor and titles and made her into a slave! Horde were dirty little thieves that sneak up on you in the night and kill you! Horde were the ones that stole your home and made you move into the mountains with the ignorant Dwarves and Humans! Esera dug her fingers into the dusty ground, glaring at the Troll as it smacked the Screecher from over a foot away with his staff, making the Screecher let out a final cry before falling.

After the Screecher fell, Kranal opened its mouth and checked the teeth, stealing some and taking its necklace for his own. It fell around his other assorted necklaces that had come from other creatures, and jingled as he moved. Then reached out and grabbed her leash, glaring at her as she glared back. She gave in fairly quickly, realizing that as long as he held her leash, she was alive. Barely.

Her fingers itched as they left the dead Screecher behind. She wanted to take out a knife, any knife, and slide it under the skin, separating it from the body. Good, hefty skin that warded away evening chill and cold winter winds. This skin looked like it could take a good punch as well, maybe be made into a solid pair of boots. She whimpered a bit, running behind Kranal as they ran back to the dusty path up to a small village that she recognized.

The Crossroads hasn't changed since the last time she had been there. The high walls protected the few vendors inside from Screechers and Plainstriders, and any other dangers at night when everyone was asleep. There were four entrance/exits, with about seven vendors and craft workers, all ready to supply young adventurers with whatever they needed. The slave cart was the only thing that she noticed was missing. That, and the big Tauren that called out prices and held up the captured alliance. As they entered, she saw the tailor that her armor was sold to and shuddered, uncontrollably. The tailor eyed her and she looked away hurriedly. She didn't want to be attacked if she was left alone for a moment. In the center of the small village was an inn with a mailbox, to which she was tied to. All of a sudden, she was knocked to the ground and Kranal put his blue foot on her back and yelled out in a booming voice. She whimpered and stayed still until he entered the inn, and didn't move again until she was sure that non of the Horde were looking at her. She remembered what happened the last time one of the captured Ally tried to make a break for it. The poor elf didn't make it too far before she was knocked out on the ground, barely alive.

"You again?" she heard a female voice croak. Esera jumped up and looked around, then realized the voice was still above her. Looking up, she saw a pale purple head looking down at her. "They chained me on here since that day. Every day I'm here, I get spat on, kicked and beaten. Just for being an Elf." She turned her head and Esera noticed that her skin was badly burned. "They heal me just enough to keep me alive. If I look too healthy, they unchain me and beat me again. I'm a living example of what happens when one tries to escape."

"Why are we here?"Esera asked, sitting down with her back against the mailbox. "Why were we captured? We were good people! This shouldn't have happened!" Her voice rose and broke towards the end. She didn't want the horde to hear her cry. But it was expected of her, but would they beat her?

"Well, you're here because you are stupid. What Gnome goes into Contested Territory? I mean, when they saw you, thats probably what wiped out the village you were in. Gnomes are exotic to these people. And a Warlock at that. You're almost as bad as Horde. You and those other fish...water...I need water..." her voice turned into a rasp, then into fits of coughing. Esera bowed deeply as a skinny Troll came over and mumbled over the Elf's body. She felt the cool aftereffects of a healing spell, and the coughs subsided as the Troll left. Esera realized he had watched them talk, and that he seemed bemused from her bow.

"Do they do this often? Heal you instead of letting you eat or drink?" Esera asked. She heard an affirmative grunt and wrapped her arms over her legs in silent fear. (So, they keep healing her instead of feeding her, so if she ever escaped, she'd be unable to eat and die out there. But why? It's horribly unlikely that anyone will ever find her here and rescue her) she thought to herself. With a renewed fear, she bowed at every Horde that passed her, even if they did so repeatedly. By the time Kranal came out of the inn, her back and neck were sore from bowing. He laughed at her as she jumped up, then dropped back down to bow to him, showing that she recognized him as her owned. He walked away from her, and several Troll and Orc children danced in front of her, dancing. One green Troll walked to her and poked her with a long, skinny finger, as if to ask her to dance with them. She skrunk away from him, still bowing. The children pouted, and were shooed away by Kranal as he came back.

"Rana. Ayd." he said, tossing some greasy meat at her feet. She looked at it, then up at him. There were Horde of different races, classes and levels looking at her, seeing what she would do. She looked up at the Night Elf that had done nothing but insult her. She picked up the meat.

"I may have been worthless before, but at least I'm not chained to a mailbox with fresh spittle on me all of the time." she said, and gobbled the food, ignoring the dust and dirt on the bottom half. There wasn't a lot of meat to eat, but the taste of something other than dust invigorated her, and she kicked dust at the mailbox with her bare feet.

"You're just like them. You're a Horde in Alliance clothing." the Elf said as Kranal took Esera away. They were headed North.

(At least I don't wait for the day to come where I die) she countered silently. She then noticed that Kranal gave her a bit more slack on her leash. Nothing else changed much besides that. Night fell the same way, with her tightly tethered to something as he rolled up his robes into a pillow. There was a watch tower not far from them, with a Taruen Hunter keeping watch with a bow in hand. Sometime after Kranal fell asleep, the hunter came down to them and put an oil lamp by them, so it would be easier to see if she tried to escape in the dark. Sometime after that, she fell asleep by the warmth of the lamp.

The next day was as uneventful as any other day. During the day, then ran, looted his kills, and ran some more, with no talking. It was like being with Deagan and the others, but without the talking. Deagan. She never got to see his body, since she tried to escape the massacre by hiding in the water and eventually flying out on a griffon. She didn't care about the Human and the Night Elf. They treated her like she was nothing but dirt. Just because she was a Warlock. If she was a Priestess, she would have been praised by them. She didn't want to think about those two. They treated her like she was the Night Elf in the Crossroads. Only there to serve as some mild amusement. When they were resting on the road to Orgrimmar, she began thinking about the day she was sold to Kranal, and how she had to hide the fact that she was a Warlock. What would they do once they realized she was? Would she be killed because of her Dark Alliance?

She shook, losing a battle against her tears. As she cried, she let everything out. She hadn't cried since the last time she saw Deagan all those months ago. Kranal jumped in surprise at these sudden tears. In all of the time since he bought her, she was steadfast and silent. Fearful at times, but she never made an attempt to escape, and squeaked when she was surprised. The blue Troll watched as the small girl in a dirty, white linen dress cried so hard her little body shook. He sighed, and sipped some ale from a flask that he had. When she had quieted down, he handed it to her. She looked up at him through bleary eyes and held the flask in two of her hands.

"Tnehg." he said, miming the drinking motion. Esera sniffed the mouth of the flask, then took a cautious sip. She coughed as the ale burned her throat, and Kranal laughed, before tipping the flask higher, forcing her to drink more. She coughed, then closed her mouth, spilling some ale on her dress. The Troll smiled and capped the flask before putting it away. Esera wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and bowed before Kranal. He sat back and watched her, head cocked to the side and resting on his fist. She was a curiosity if he had ever seen one. In the back of his mind, she now weighed more in justification with buying her instead of training of riding a mount. All other Alliance creatures, even other Gnomes all tried to escape, rebel against their masters or killed themselves. The only exception besides this Gnome was making them into Mind Slaves, which made them uninteresting. This one kept to herself, even with faced with another Ally, and kicked dust at one of her revered Night Elves. He wondered if this was because she didn't like the Elves, or if she was renouncing being a part of the Alliance.

Kranal stood up and grabbed her leash again, and they continued to Orgrimmar, still thinking. The only Alliance that chose to ally themselves with the Horde and Alliance were Warlocks. Although her lack of fear of being around creatures of a certain higher was more like a Warlock, her fear of Horde around her and most other things negated that aspect. When she was being auctioned with the other Allies, her class was never announced as a Warlock. But what if she was? He wondered, looking back at her. What if she was one of the few Gnome Warlocks in existence? She wasn't muscled, like a Warrior, and would have frozen her captors if she was a Mage. She was too clumsy to be a Rogue, and could have escaped many times if she were. So was she a Warlock? He wanted to know before going to Orgrimmar. If he brought an Alliance Warlock into the city, she could possibly enslave a demon and escape.

Kranal laughed suddenly and shook his head and looked back at Esera again. She looked up, confused at why he kept looking at her. Was he going to kill her out here? Would spiting an Elf be the most daring thing she ever did? She wondered this as they ran into a large city, with various levels and many Trolls and Tauren staring and pointing at her. She wanted to cry, but held her head up and met Kranal's eyes.

"Kranal Fiss, its been a while." said a stately blue Troll Shaman. Kranal Fiss laughed and bowed to his former student.

"Kukabara Rayne, ti is a pleasure to see a former student climb so far up in the world. A Shaman trainer? I thought you hated me for not being an active Shaman, yet here you are..." Kukabara tossed her head, making her dark blue braids swing over her shoulder, and her mohawk sway.

"You know, that's not how you start off asking for favors Kranal." she lectured, trying not to smile. He laughed and tugged the lash a bit. Esera walked forward meekly and bowed. She was aching again from bowing so much. "Kranal, you bought her. The Valley of Honor cannot reimburse you!" Kukabara complained loudly. The other Shamen turned to look at her, then at little Esera.

"I don't want to return her." Kranal said, lowering his voice. "I need someone who speaks Gnomish or Alliance Commonspeak." he said. Kukabara raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" She asked. "What for? Want to converse with your pet? Make it learn Troll so she can only speak to you." Kranal sighed and rubbed his temples. He knew she would be stubborn. His former students tended to be.

"I think she was a Warlock before she was captured. She was stripped of all of her possessions before being sold..."

"If she was a Warlock, she would have been recruited, not captured." Kukabara said patiently. Kranal groaned.

"What do you think Slave traders would have done Kuk? Sold a low Warlock or cut their profits with one? Maybe she was poorly trained! If she was, that can be remedied easily—!"

"Kranal Fiss!" Kukabara yelled. All noise in the Hall stopped. Everyone was looking at the two Trolls and the bowing Gnome silently. Kranal growled at his former student who was publicly degrading him. They tried to stare each other down before Kukabara sighed. "Go to Rathchet if you want someone to translate what she says. There is a Human Warlock there, if she even speaks their Common. Then you must determine if she'll even tell the truth to him IF she talks to him."

"She speaks Common. She was speaking to that Example in the Crossroads." Kranal grinned. "She kicked dust at her."

"You're taking that to mean that she's allying herself with the Horde. Kranal, she's probably one of the few Alliance bastards that resent the Night Elves. Maybe when she was in the slave cart with her, all that Elf did was insult her. Kicking a little dust means nothing. We're done here." she said, as a young Shaman cautiously approached Kukabara. She smiled down and listened to his soft voice, straining to hear what he was asking. Kranal growled and left, tugging Esera more than necessary.

Walking through The Drag, Kranal continued to growl. He hated how his former students felt themselves too good to help their former master. That they didn't owe him anything for his hours of training, and their eating his food. He looked down at Esera as she continued to bow to guards and citizens alike.

"Stop it!" he snapped at her, tugging her leash up. She squeaked in pain and surprise, then tried to keep better pace with him. Angry, trying to get her to rebel, he began to walk faster. Still, she kept within a 2 foot distance of him. By the time they got to the entrance of the Dark Griphons, he was running, with Esera panting behind him. Finally at the top, he jumped on the next available Griphon and put her on in front of him.

"We take no responsibility if she falls off." the Undead warned. Kranal nodded and tapped the Griphon's head. Esera cried out and grabbed onto it's fur with but fists, whimpering from the moment they lifted off, to the moment they landed.

"Makes me wonder why I bothered walking to the city." he muttered, helping the Gnome. She was rigid as he took her off, and wouldn't raise her head as they left the Crossroads. They headed East to Ratchet, staying on the road to avoid confrontation with any Screechers or Plainstriders, Minotaur or lions. Kranal, for some reason, wanted to help this Gnome, to re-raise her. He allowed a small smile to pass his lips as she kept stride with him, then fell back as she remembered that they weren't equal. If he had a copper for each time a student had done the same action, he'd be rolling in gold.


End file.
